Chasing Shadows
by starisfairy
Summary: In which revenge is only a means to an end, fate is strange, affairs between the Worlds are even stranger still, and King Enma Junior makes a very important decision. It isn't over yet. (YGO/YYH/HP crossover, a repost of the original Chasing Shadows that can be found on this account due to heavy editing.)
1. Requiem

**Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu Yu Hakusho, or Harry Potter. I am merely a devoted fan with an after-story monster thing. All rights reserved.**

* * *

**.~.~.**

**requiem (n.)**

**a solemn chant (as a dirge) for the repose of the dead**

**.~.~.**

At first, all he felt was confusion. Questions arose.

Where was he?

Why was he here?

How did he get to where he was?

When did he arrive?

He didn't understand and so he did what any rational human being would do in his situation: he observed his surroundings.

It was hot; the wind chapped his lips and mussed his hair about and the only reprieve was the surprisingly cool sand beneath him. In retrospect it made sense- it was a pale gold. Light colors reflected and dark colors absorbed. (He could thank school for teaching him that.)

Which brought him back to the heat. The bright sun was beating down and that there was no way of escaping it—wherever he was had no trees and he couldn't find shade anywhere nearby. There was nothing but sand dunes for what seemed to be miles.

He was alone.

And yet… for the first time in a very long time, he wasn't afraid. Not of the fact that he'd probably collapse from heat exhaustion if he didn't find water. Or even of the fact that he was alone. But deep within his core there was a wild, primordial instinct that told him he should be afraid (not only that he should've be afraid; that he should've been terrified…)

Was he? He couldn't tell and so he kept walking.

He kept walking despite the fact that his fair skin was burning and despite the growing sense of foreboding within him, the feeling telling him that if he didn't stop he would be in danger. (He couldn't stop he wouldn't stop he wouldn't run away. Not again. He had to keep moving forward. He had to.)

How else was he supposed to save himself?

Running away had never helped him before. It just made everything worse. It always made everything worse.

But soon the slight burn of the sun became hard to ignore. It grew and magnified and and spread and soon his entire body was on fire, falling apart, freezing—all at once.

He couldn't keep walking.  
.

Bakura Ryou awoke with a gasp.

**.~.~.**

It was quiet, and it was dark.

One would think that he would be used to this desolation, but it had been a long time since he had truly been alone. A very long time.

The Shadows were never silent, never desolate. It wasn't in their nature. They were disquiet. They were judgement embodied, they were fear and darkness. They were anything but quiet. Anything but peaceful.

This was silence, this was completely devoid of anything. This was emptiness and it was suffocating.

It made him remember things. Things that he wanted to forget, memories that he'd buried a long time ago. Memories that signified events he had never wanted to happen in the first place. And it wasn't long before he was lost in them.

The atmosphere was thick with acrid smoke, the metallic smell that could only be blood, and the stench of smoke and burning flesh. Screams resounded throughout the air. All that he could do was watch in horror, petrified, as his world fell into pieces before his very eyes.

He could only resolve to do one thing: get revenge on the people who slaughtered his village; his friends, his family. Even if it meant losing his soul, committing heresy. He would kill the Pharoah, no matter what the cost. He would get revenge.

He had absolutely nothing left to lose.  
.

The sun was hot against his skin and his throat burned with a horrible thirst. The ropes around his ankles and his wrists were tied tightly- too tightly- he could feel his fingers going numb. His limbs were sore from walking and he felt empty in more ways than one.

How long had he been walking with these too-tight ropes? How long had he been captured for?

He didn't know and his perception of time had been left behind hours before along with his hydration. But he did know one thing and one very important thing at that– with every step that he took, he got closer and closer to the palace, closer and closer to exacting the thing that he'd been dreaming of and training for after years upon years.

He could almost taste it now; his revenge. It was in his arm's reach…

… But he knew that he couldn't do it alone.

He needed help, help from a being much more powerful than he was. This being, this savior of his was something of an expert with things such as these; of lying and stealing… and of murder as well. This being knew much more than he did.

It was the perfect partnership.

This creature, this Demon, would help him exact the very thing that he had dreamed of… but only in exchange for something precious, something that he would never get back.

His soul.

In honesty, he didn't mind the fact that his soul would soon be devoured. If this was the only thing that Zorc would take, the only thing that Zorc would accept as payment, then he would gladly give it away.

He had nothing else to lose, after all.

And so the Thief called for it, this Demon of Demons. He closed his eyes and called for It; begging and cajoling, offering his everything. This was the moment that he had been waiting for.

His world was engulfed in Shadows.

.

Everything else was bits and pieces, fleeting and formless. Half-formed thoughts and unfinished sentences here and there, brief glimpses of destruction.

It had all been pointless in the end. He'd never managed his goal—all that he'd managed to do was prolong his own suffering by an extra three thousand years and to destroy another innocent child's life. All that he'd manage to do was continue the cycle.

And he hated himself for it.

Hate. Hate was a familiar feeling to him. It was what had gotten him into this situation. It was what he felt for the Pharoah, for Zorc. He hated everything.

But he mostly hated himself for what he had done.

A new, alien feeling emerged behind the hatred, engulfing him.

No, wait. He'd felt this before. When he'd stolen for the first time, when his mother had caught him sneaking out to play before he'd finished his chores…

Guilt.

A very official-looking paper was stamped, and door was slammed, and King Enma Junior made an extremely important decision.

**And thus our story begins…**

**.~.~.**

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**Story Notes:**

**For YGO:**

**This story is set post-canon. Assuming that YGO began in June 1994 and ended in August 1995, this story begins 10 months after, in June 1996.**

**For YYH:**

**This story is set post-canon as well. Assuming that YYH began in May of 1993 and ended in May 1995, this story begins around 11-12 months after it ends.**

**For HP:**

**This story is an AU of book six, which is where we diverge onward from canon. It begins in the summer in between book five and book six, after all of the students have come home for vacation blah blah blaaaaah.**

**.**  
**I want to give credit to an abundance of authors who inspire me greatly and have given me numerous ideas for this story with their own fantastic writing. These also double as fanfic recs, in case anyone was interested in readin' some YGO/HP or YYH/HP fanfiction.**

**Thank you:**

**Phate Phoenix (The Difference Between Shadows and Darkness),**  
**Lethotep (Shadow Balance),**  
**JoIsBishMyoga (The Best Defense and A Great Offense),**  
**Out-Of-Control-Authoress (No Strings Attached, Blood Bound),**  
**JewelValentine (A Crossing of the Ways),**  
**and**  
**S. Lawliet (who's story name I can't remember at the moment but who still deserves much credit and many thank yous for being a great writer with original ideas)**

**Please, give theses authors some love for me, as they're the reason this story even exists. Without these people's writing this work would've never been written.**

**.**

**Author's Notes:**

**This is my repost of Chasing Shadows. V1 can be found on my account, and I will not be deleting it. I feel as though a fresh start will be good for this story, and I hope that everyone enjoys. Constructive criticism is appreciated, but please be gentle for I am but a wilting flower being pushed around by the breeze around me and I break very easily.**

**Please review, even if it's just a word or two, **

**-starisfairy**


	2. Chapter I

**Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu Yu Hakusho, or Harry Potter. I am merely a devoted fan with an after-story monster thing. All rights reserved.**

* * *

**.~.~.**

**I.**

**.~.~.**

* * *

This wasn't what the demon had planned. He hadn't planned for the Pharoah to fix the past, nor had he planned for the Pharoah's friends to follow him. He certainly hadn't planned for his vessel to be destroyed in the crossfire.

He'd still had uses for the Thief.

He would have to find a new vessel.

He extracted himself from his Host and an immense pain, more than he believed that he could ever feel, bore down upon him. But he did not have a soul. He was lucky for that, having a soul would be nothing but a hindrance. The Thief was proof of this.

He was spent. A broken toy.

Souls were easily broken, really. It was only a matter of time.

But it was a pity that the Thief's soul wasn't enough for him anymore. He'd have much liked to have consumed him before he had been spent completely. He supposed that feeding off of him for three millennia had been enough, but he was hungry, so hungry. Starving.

He wanted more. He wanted more and more and more until everything was gone.

He wanted to devour the world.

But for now? He needed to latch onto something that could conceal him. Escaping from the World of Spirits was not a simple task. But luckily he wasn't a spirit. He wasn't a demon. He was the shadows. He was more.

He ripped a hole in reality and climbed right through it. Chaos followed him to freedom.

**.~.~.**

It was a dark and stormy night.

The rain sounded like war on his window, gunshots and cannons, but he couldn't hear it. The war inside of him was too strong and too scary and it was _enough._

His hands were trembling. His layout didn't make sense. His cards didn't make sense. His cards _always _made sense. Always. Even when he didn't want them to.

He needed a second point of reference. He stood up. He felt unsteady on his feet. Why?

Oh. It wasn't just his hands that were trembling. The grabbed the chair that he had just been sitting on to steady himself before going on his way.

Where was it?

The book. He hadn't read it in four years because he'd memorized it when he was thirteen- it had been his everything when Amane and mother had died. Where was it?

Under his bed. It was in a box with his old tarot deck, the one that had ripped cards and strange colors from when Amane hadn't listened and had used the drawings as something to color on- he'd been so upset.

There it was. _Behind the Cards_ by Sybil Trelawney.

It was worn and familiar and there were scribbles on some of the pages because it had been his mother's and he and Amane had never realized exactly what the book was. Just holding it in his hands made the shaking calm, if only somewhat. This would have his answers. It had to.

His cards always made sense, even when he didn't want them to. Always.

But when he sat down at his desk and started reading, it didn't give him the answers that he was looking for. It just gave him more questions.

He was scared.

**.~.~.**

Number Twelve Grimmauld place was not and would never be a cheerful place. It was too dark, too dreary. The decorations were cold and impersonal, and the entire place had a malicious air to it, despite all of Mrs. Weasley's pruning and straightening and generally attempts at making the place _brighter._

It was even worse after its owner's death.

Sirius Black had been a good man... and a wonderful friend. It was difficult to know that all of his suffering had been for nothing.

All they could do was wait for this war to be over. All they could hope for was an emoticon of peace, of happiness. All they could hope for was universal freedom. (But freedom was never universal, was it?)

After all, that was what had Sirius wanted, wasn't it? But at what cost? At what length would they go to to attain this freedom?

They were a resistance, they were good. They were the Order of the Phoenix...

And they refused to be any less than that.

"But, Albus... they are from _Japan_, of all places!"

"I am fully aware of that, Minerva, but I am afraid that we must allow them back into our ranks. Signing the treaty is the only way that we may find unity within this torn society." Albus Dumbledore replied diplomatically. His expression was grave and serious – an expression that wasn't particularly common in the man with his cheerful disposition.

"But surely you remember the stories? The Japanese Traditionalists are unstable in their magic. This could result in disaster!" Minerva McGonagall exclaimed, perturbed.

"Perhaps, but it could also result in less casualties."

Albus Dumbledore then looked toward the rest of the Order expectantly, "Do any of you have any questions?"

The room was tense, and full of questions, but no one said a word.

And so Dumbledore looked at them, his normally twinkling and happy eyes still unnervingly serious.

"The recruits arrive in a month. Preparation is crucial if we want to go smoothly. I trust that you will make them feel comfortable?" the questions concealed a warning, and it was quite clear what it meant. If the Traditionalists were coming, then they had to tread very carefully.

After all, the Japanese Traditionalists were a dangerous magical sect. They had to be regarded as such.

Not that the Ishtar Clan was any better.

**.~.~.**

A flash of light pierced through the darkness and the Thief didn't like it. Looking at it burned.

It was too pure, too clean...

"You are the former King of Thieves, also known as one-half of the being known as Bakura of Darkness, correct?"

He couldn't answer. The light was too bright and pure and he was so small.

It dimmed with time and there was a young and human man before him, or what looked like a young human man. His eyes were ageless.

_Who are you?_

The godly being before him locked eyes with the thief, his gaze piercing,"I go by many names, including Ancient Egypt's Anubis, but you may call me Prince Enma. I am here to offer you a deal."

And then the light returned. His world disappeared.

**.~.~.**

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**Author's Note:**

**Hi, hey, hello. I already have 9 chapters and a prologue's worth of material ready to post, so I thought I'd post a double update. Enjoy, and please review if you have the time. :)**

**~starisfairy**


	3. Chapter II

******Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu Yu Hakusho, or Harry Potter. I am merely a devoted fan with an after-story monster thing. All rights reserved.**

* * *

**.~.~.**

**II.**

**.~.~.**

_**Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.**_

Ryou glanced up at the wall clock near the teacher's desk and frowned, trying to tune it out. It was a worthless effort, but it was one that he couldn't help but try.

He let out a suppressed sigh and tried to focus on the notebook lying before him. It was thin and spiral bound, with a black cover and a boring, generic brand name written on it...

He was supposed to be taking notes.

Setting his pencil to paper, he began copying the writing on the board, his usually neat handwriting just a tad shaky- despite the fact that he was gripping his pencil tightly in an effort to make it more legible. Throughout his life, it had been likened to computer script in its tidiness, but now- well, it could hardly be called refined. It frustrated him, but, really, there was nothing that he could do about it.

He had thought that he'd be able to sleep off the feeling of everything not being quite right within him, that it was just a bug; probably a virus or a product of his ever-persistent insomnia... or maybe even both.

He'd been wrong.

Instead, his health only declined further over the weeks; months, really. It seemed that, ever since that dream... but no, it was impossible that a mere nightmare could have anything to do with a physical illness, wasn't it?

He wasn't sure anymore.

All he really knew was that, sometimes, it was a miracle that he could read a sentence of his assigned work without vision blurring and his mind wandering off into the distance, that he could stay awake long enough to even make it through school without dozing off in the middle of Calculus.

It was a wonder that his grades were still some of the best in his year.

But, of course, it came at a price.

He'd had to cut his work hours by more than half in order to accommodate his new sleeping schedule and his swiftly accumulating pile of homework, and it seemed as if his employers were considering letting him go. Apparently, he was becoming a liability – looking as though you're about to collapse at any moment is, evidently, not something that customers enjoyed witnessing – even when you try your best to hide it.

He didn't blame them, of course – he knew that there was something wrong. He just wished that he knew what-

The school bell rang, a loud, overwhelming sound. Ryou jumped.

He cursed himself for not paying attention yet again, looking down at the- still empty- sheet of paper that he was supposed to be filling with notes. Slowly, he began to pack his books away, stacking them all into his briefcase as neatly as possible. He was in no hurry, unlike the majority of the students in his class, so he waited patiently as they all rushed towards the door, eager to get outside, to feel the sun and to socialize with one another.

He was still trying to gather the energy to get up.

Once the class was halfway empty, he eased himself out of his chair, feeling a wave of vertigo as he stood. He tried his best not to sway, instead putting on hand onto his desk for balance as he leaned over to pick up his briefcase.

Feeling as though someone was watching him, he glanced over his shoulder, noticing Anzu giving him a look of concern. Looking away immediately, he checked for any leftover textbooks underneath his desk before closing his bookbag and straightening his uniform.

He didn't want to be confronted by her at the moment, or by anyone for that matter. He'd been putting it off for as long as possible, refraining from giving anyone any openings. It was better this way, really. He knew this.

He just wished that it weren't so lonely.

Just as he reached the door leading to the halls of Domino High School, he was stopped by a soft but assertive, "Bakura-_kun_, I need to speak to you for a moment."

It was his teacher.

He looked over towards her, locking eyes with her as she gestured for him to take a seat on the chair across from her desk. He did so, fidgeting slightly in his seat and taking inventory of the items on the surface.

A wave of anxiety overcame him. Was this about his grades? About the days that he missed school? He tried not to, but sometimes- sometimes he just couldn't make it. He was getting better at managing his sleeping, he was learning to cope over time, but... surely, the administration had noticed by now. After all, it had been months- and things definitely weren't getting any better.

Abe-sensei was a petite and very kind-looking woman. Her voice was calming, and she had a pleasant disposition. But this did nothing to ease Ryou's anxiety.

She sat patiently, grading papers as she seemingly waited for the rest of the students to file out of the room. Once they did so, she continued to look over her papers for a few seconds, checking to see if everything was in order.

And then she looked up at him, smiling in her gentle, kind way. He returned the gesture uneasily, trying not to fidget with her eyes on him.

"Tell me, Bakura_-kun_. Are you well?"

Ryou kept his face impassive, "Of course, Abe-sensei." he then smiled in his own charming way-an attempt to derail her. He knew where she was going, and he was not pleased about it in the least.

And so he decided to do what he did best- continue to lie through his teeth, "I just haven't been sleeping enough, that's all."

"Oh, and why is that?" Abe-sensei still didn't seem to buy his excuse, even though she was still smiling pleasantly. Maybe, just maybe- she was more perceptive than most of the people he dealt with. Or maybe she just cared that much.

But either way, this was going to be harder than he'd expected.

Oh, well, he was always up to the challenge of lying. He was quite good at it, and one might even venture to say that he was a professional liar. Perhaps it wasn't the best thing to be a professional at, but throughout his life it had done him some good.

"I just have a lot of bad dreams is all. It isn't too big of a deal." he kept his trademark smile pasted on his face, despite the fact that it felt rubbery and fake and so very flimsy. It had worked in the past, and it would work now.

Abe-sensei was not impressed.

Please, oh please, just let it rest there, he begged silently, feeling a bit desperate now. He may have been good at lying, but he certainly didn't like it – and it certainly wasn't something that he was proud of. Lying hurt. It hurt him and it hurt others and he hated it. He hated lying.

But it was something that he seemed to always have to do.

"Bakura-_kun,_ if it were just bad dreams then I wouldn't have called you in at the end of class."

"Really?" Ryou questioned dazedly, unable, suddenly, to think of anything else. He was just so tired, his bed was calling to him...

The teacher sighed, giving him a look of near pity before answering, "You don't have to tell me, but I worry about my students. You are at the top of your class, Bakura-_kun_, and if there is anything, anything at all that you can tell me... I'd be greatly obliged."

Ryou's facade crumbled for a moment- only a moment, but he cursed himself silently, knowing that it was just long enough for the teacher to see just how tired he was. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm just... just a bit under the weather as of late. I'm dealing with it." he said honestly, avoiding her gaze and wishing with all of his soul that he were somewhere else, somewhere very, very far away- preferably in his bed.

Abe Hisako smiled, a true, genuine smile this time, before she stated kindly, "Well, if anything comes up? Don't hesitate to tell me."

Ryou forced a weak smile, forcing himself to stand up before bowing, "Thank you, Abe-sensei."

She grinned, "Goodbye, Bakura-_kun_. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."

He returned her courtesy clumsily, his limbs trembling slightly as he left the room as fast as his body would allow him to.

Sleep awaited, and for now, that was all that mattered.

**.~.~.**

The world of Spirits was a busy place. The best thing to compare it to would be a multi-million dollar company- but without the employee benefits, the insurance, the breakroom, and, of course, the vacations.

No, there was no time for vacations of any sort in Spirit World's central headquarters, what with all that had to be done. Really, running a dimension was difficult enough without having to deal with numerous souls from various alternate dimensions, with each world just as important to the balance of the universe as the next.

And of course, Reikai also had very strict laws, laws that were quite significant to the safety of not only one world, but three. The laws were quite rigid and very important to the function of the Spirit World, and breaking even one of them was considered quite unacceptable.

However, creating an unauthorized inter-dimensional portal was not only breaking a good number of these guidelines, it was also considered a universal emergency, one that was treated with great caution.

The fact that Urameshi Yusuke, a known threat to Reikai, was the one that created this portal? Well, that was even worse.

Yusuke's rather dramatic entrance was not met with a positive response. Indeed, the response to this particular escapade would be a story told for years to come, and it would give the Oni who had witnessed it nightmares for just as long – if not longer.

After all, Urameshi Yusuke was no longer considered a benevolent force, even to the people that had watched him grow into his substantial abilities years previously. He was now a Demon, and Demons were not to be trusted under any circumstances. Especially one as powerful and influential as he was.

And Demon Lords? They were most definitely not welcome, especially if they were alive, more powerful than ever, and angry.

Yusuke was both of these things.

No one involved was pleased, and the Spirit Defense Force displayed this displeasure more than anyone else – but even they found the idea of fighting him off daunting given the rather... malevolent aura that was coming off of Yusuke's body in waves.

From an outsider's point of view, it would appear to be most terrifying – but anyone that truly knew Yusuke knew that he really was a rather gentle spirit, even if he wasn't very good at showing it.

Yes, Yusuke was a very_ kind_ boy, despite how intimidating he appeared to be at first glance. But that side of him was not something that he would ever show willingly, and it certainly wasn't something that he was displaying at that point in time.

He never lashed out or attacked a single person on that day (though, the same could not be said for a few doors...). He didn't even look at them, instead choosing to glare at a certain King Enma Jr.'s office with such ferocity that some witnesses would liken to acid when retelling the harrowing tale. In fact, some would later say that it was a wonder the door didn't melt under his gaze.

But as Urameshi Yusuke stormed into Reikai, his eyes ablaze with fury and his aura even more so, the celestial employees could not help but wonder why he wasn't hurting a single soul. He hadn't been invited, had he? It was impossible... not after all that had happened, after all of the _stories_.

Then again, given the faint shadow and the tall, lean, figure of a rather effeminate young man that soon followed along with a rather anxious, blue-hair_ shinigami_ by the name of Botan, perhaps he had been invited, after all.

**.~.~.**

All that he could see was white, white, white and it burned. It burned and burned and all that he wanted to do was scream or close his eyes. But he couldn't. He couldn't move or scream or close his eyes or even think and there was nothing but white, white, white...

All that he wanted was for it to stop, but it wouldn't, it wouldn't and maybe he was in hell.

Perhaps Amut had finally come to take him.

He didn't know which was worse.

.

Was he even worth the effort of cleansing?

Koenma dismissed the thought immediately. It would only add more damage to the unsteady balance of the universe, more pain into existence. No, all that he could do was watch and wait and try to salvage what was left of the Nameless Thief's soul.

… All that he could do was try bond it back together with it's Other, to return it to its source.

Maybe, just maybe, it would do the world some good.

**.~.~.**

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Part 2/2 of the double update. Will probably update again tomorrow.**

**~starisfairy**


	4. Chapter III

**Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu Yu Hakusho, or Harry Potter. I am merely a devoted fan with an after-story monster thing. All rights reserved.**

* * *

**.~.~.**

**III.**

**.~.~.**

* * *

Suddenly, he was assaulted by colors, colors and sounds and light. It was overwhelming. It was beautiful. It was a miracle.

He just wished that it weren't so painful.

There was too much, too many colors, too much sound, too much light... but it was welcome. He drank it in, for he could truly feel again. It wasn't empty, cold, and dark- but it wasn't blinding and burning and painfully pure and white, white, white either.

It was somewhere in between.

He opened his eyes once more, allowing himself to absorb the pain, the lights, the sound. After the Darkness, the lonely darkness- it was worth it.

He was in an office. It was quite unusual, with bright, pastel colors and strange technology that reminded him of something that Kaiba Corporation would have developed...

And then he remembered why he was here to begin with.

With a slight thrill of fear (_fear?),_ he looked up towards the ethereal creature that had transported him here, the one with the serious, hazel eyes and the pure, untainted spirit.

"Now, I suppose that I am now obligated to tell you what you are doing here, aren't I?"

It took the Thief a moment to register the being's words, and when he did... he couldn't find a response.

With a start, he realized just how weak he felt, how he felt as though he wasn't entirely there. Looking at his hands, he found that he was nearly transparent.

At this discovery, he looked back towards the god.

"As previously stated, I am Prince Enma Jr. and who you would have called Anubis in your era. However, I was not alive at that point in time, my father was in my position back then."

Once again, the Thief didn't answer. He couldn't find the words, couldn't make them come out.

And so the prince went on, "We have decided to give you a second chance, a chance to start anew."

The former King of Thieves stared at him in shock, uncomprehending. This time, words finally came to him.

_What?_

They wouldn't come out.

The prince went on, "There is, of course, a price of sorts."

The Thief listened to the prince finish explaining with an increasing impatience, listening intently.

"Surely, you can feel that you are less than whole. Even at this moment, your soul is at war with itself- trying to come apart.

_Why?_

"Why?" the prince echoed, so the god _could _hear him, somehow, "Well, there are many reasons to do with this, most of which are from your past and the damage that your soul has handled. A single soul can only go through so much. As for the second chance? Well, there are many reasons for that. The first would be the fact that, if you were not to be given a chance of atonement... you would not be the only one to suffer. Unfortunately, this is much bigger than just you now, and your Other is suffering much more due to the damage imparted on your souls."

_Other?_

Was he speaking of Zorc?

He had known that his soul was damaged, and he had known that he probably wouldn't make it to the Afterlife... but he hadn't expected this. What he had expected was, perhaps, his soul to be devoured by_ Ammit_, to have himself obliviated from existence... but another chance at life... it was impossible. He didn't deserve a second chance.

He had already used up all of his chances when he possessed a child. He was, by no means, an innocent party. Not like Ryou.

So why a second chance? Why?

Why?

And as for his Other? What did the God mean?

_What do you mean by 'Other'?_

Koenma looked at him in shock, so the Thief hadn't known what Bakura Ryou was? Most interesting, indeed. And so he explained, "When you first fell into contact with the Demon Zorc, you made a contract with him, correct?"

Not waiting for an answer, he continued, "Well, that contract enabled him to take you over completely, something that I'm sure you didn't quite foresee. In doing so, Zorc took you over completely and discarded what he did not want to interfere with his ability to take your soul over. In essence, he tore your soul into two halves, effectively giving him space to rule over your mindscape."

Suddenly, the Nameless Thief- for he was truly nameless: his name had long since been lost and he couldn't remember it no matter how hard he tried to- was filled with an understanding as memories assaulted him once more, coming together just a bit more clearly and showing the gaps within them.

Suddenly, it all made sense.

And suddenly, he felt anger. (Anger?)

A deep voice within him – was it his conscience, perhaps? – was telling him that he had no right to be angry at anyone but himself, that he was entirely at fault for this... but, in a way, he felt betrayed.

But it was more than that, a number of emotions that he couldn't identify came with the feeling of betrayal, guilt being the most prevalent once more.

How could he have been so childish? So naïve? How could he have lost a grasp on what was important to him, on who he was and what he had planned on doing with his existence long before any of this had happened?

Most importantly, how could he have let any of this happen to begin with?

_Who… who is my 'Other'?_

The celestial prince smiled a mysterious smile, "I would think that you would have realized by now who it was, or rather, who it is... but I know that you are curious, and all of this must be quite overwhelming without you trying to puzzle it out, so I shall tell you."

And so the Thief looked at the prince expectantly, waiting for the exposition of something that would change his everything, waiting to know who it was that held the rest of his soul...

"It's Bakura Ryou."

Before the former thief could register this, a parade of sound leaked from the surrounding building, the sounds of explosions and chaos punctuated by screams becoming apparent.

Immediately, Koenma could surmise exactly what was about to happen.

It appeared that Urameshi Yusuke had finally gotten the news the he had been called to Reikai, and that he wasn't particularly happy about this fact. It was to be expected, really – Yusuke had never been known for his ability to control his temper, and as unpredictable as he appeared to be... Yusuke could be read like a book.

And, as predicted, there was soon a nice, large, smoking hole where the Prince's door had once been, and a darkly furious half-demon right behind it.

Koenma may have been expecting it, but he certainly wasn't pleased at this turn of events, "Yusuke, how nice of you to... visit. Though, you could have been more gentle-"

Before he could blink, Yusuke was right beside him, pushing him into the wall right next to his desk.

"Why the hell am I here, and why the hell have your people been following me for the past year?" he interrogated, looking more and more angry by the millisecond. Koenma still wasn't surprised. After all, a SDF member had just woken him up from a peaceful slumber after stalking him for months. Anyone was bound to be irritated over that.

Really, Koenma was mildly surprised that Yusuke hadn't blown up the entire building. He was definitely gaining more control over his abilities as well as his emotions, and at a shockingly fast pace.

"Well, Yusuke, it wasn't exactly my choice. Given the circumstances and my father's opinion of you... the Spirit Defense Force got the order from right over my head, and you know that I am unable to challenge my father after the last incident." the god explained, his expression pained.

Still infuriated, but somewhat understanding, the half-demon let go of Koenma's front, making him fall with a thud. Yusuke stepped back, allowing the rather rattled otherworldly leader to stand up. Just because Koenma had _expected_ such a response didn't mean that it hadn't been somewhat terrifying.

"Well, then, why am I here?" Yusuke questioned impatiently.

Koenma simply looked pointedly over to the slightly translucent figure sitting near the wall adjacent to the door, staring at the spectacle in an unseeing fashion.

Yusuke blinked in surprise, "Oh."

"As you can see, I have company at the moment." Koenma stated matter-of-factly before looking back towards the silent Thief, "Nameless Thief, have you considered my offer? As I said before, there will be a price... but the benefit reaped from it is well worth it."

The man looked towards him slowly, eyes still out-of-focus.

_Yes, I find your offer to be quite intriguing. But I highly doubt that the young host Bakura would find it to be so. I can imagine that he'd be quite terrified of me, you see. _

Koenma felt a sort of satisfaction at Yusuke's surprised start. The Thief hadn't opened his mouth and yet his 'voice' projected through the room quite clearly.

His telepathic powers were surprisingly strong, considering.

"Oh, but I can assure you that he, too, will find it well worth it," the prince assured him.

The thief did not answer, already lost in his own thoughts, and Yusuke used to opportunity to re-ask his question, "Why have we been called here, Koenma?! Fuck, are you ever going to answer?"

"We were venturing to ask a similar question." a new voice stated cooly, adding to the general chaos of the room, "Though, I don't find the cursing to be quite as necessary." Glancing to the gaping hole that was once a door, one would see two figures standing in it, a tall lean young man and a shorter being that looked both younger, and very much less human.

Kurama, known to the Human World as Minamino Shuuichi, wasn't nearly as angry as Yusuke had been, though one could never tell with him. In fact, he was usually at his most terrifying when he seemed perfectly calm.

Now, however, he had on nothing but a calculating, thoughtful look, so he wasn't angry... or at least Koenma hoped that he wasn't.

Hiei, as per usual, just looked bored... but, then again, no one except Kurama had ever been able to understand the twisted thought process of the Jaganshi, and no one particularly wanted to, either.

"As I was saying before Yusuke so rudely stormed in," with this, the young leader of Spirit World shot the half-demon a glare, "I have an assignment for you all, a mission if you will. I know that you three have been not-so-honorably discharged... but this is important. After all, you all will be in the clear if this mission is a success."

"What do ya mean by that?"

"What I mean, Yusuke, is that, if you so desire, Reikai will stay out of all of your lives until the day that you die- for good, this time. I asked Father, and he agreed, albeit grudgingly. He will allow you to live your lives without the SDF tracking you."

For a moment, all was silent.

"But why this mission? Why has it been deemed to be of import?" Kurama finally questioned, eyes narrowing.

"Because this threat is a threat to us all. The Spirit World, Demon World, and especially the Human World. If this war gets out of hand, well, it could completely destroy the balance that everything so desperately needs in order to function."

Koenma looked at them all in turn, stopping on the figure sitting in the corner, his eyes still as blank as they had been when the conversation began, "Besides, this time, you have all been specifically selected due to your abilities and backgrounds. No one else can do this."

Silence reigned once more as everyone digested that explanation.

"Now," the young Lord clapped his hands abruptly, bringing the thief to attention with a start and standing up, "We must get down to business! Please, Botan-"

Botan, who had just arrived to the scene, bit her lip, waiting for the order.

"Could you keep track of the other parties needed for this mission? I need them here in three days."

Botan nodded, smiling, "I better get to it, then! I'll see you all later!"

And with that, she jumped onto her paddle, flying off to get ready for her next departure.

Glancing over the former Spirit Detectives, he asked hypothetically, "Are you going to stay here or are you going to go continue your lives? Shoo! I'll see you all in three days."

Yusuke sent Koenma a semi-playful glare at the order, but he complied without complaint, walking towards the door without a second glance. Koenma stopped him, suddenly realizing a most disturbing thing, "Do you have any idea how my father is going to react to the state of this place?" he squeaked, his expression suddenly horrified as he forgot about all else.

"He's going to kill me!"

Yusuke just laughed, "Hey, consider it revenge." with that, he left, chuckling as he went on his way.

Hiei had already left silently, without warning, and he was long gone, but Kurama was not so easy to get rid of, "Does this have anything to do with the Wizards, Koenma?"

The dimensional leader sighed slowly, "You never miss a beat, do you, Kurama? Yes, yes it does. I'm afraid that things have escalated beyond anyone's control."

"I see." Kurama answered knowingly, his expression unchanging before he looked Koenma straight in the eye, "They have offered the Treaty, then?"

Koenma nodded gravely, and Kurama took one last glance at the strange soul that was standing in the corner and watching the proceedings go by silently.

"This should be interesting." The redheaded demon stated dryly, leaving the room at a leisurely pace, his hands in his pockets.

And then the room was empty save for its original occupants. This was going to be a difficult process.

Koenma just hoped that he was up to the challenge.

**.~.~.**

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Once again, a double post. Next chapter will be up in a few minutes. And once again, reviews are much appreciated. Hopefully this version is more consistent than the last.**

**~starisfairy**


	5. Chapter IV

**Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu Yu Hakusho, or Harry Potter. I am merely a devoted fan with an after-story monster thing. All rights reserved.**

**.~.~.**

**IV.**

**.~.~.**

Perhaps he was a tad biased, given his profession, but- in his opinion, Egypt was one of the one of the most grand places in the world.

It was gorgeous, with the desert sand and the rolling hills left mostly unperturbed and the bright, blinding Egyptian sun casting light onto whatever it could reach while suspended in a sky wrought with the palest of blues.

Yes, it was beautiful.

But it wasn't just the aesthetic value that made him feel so much affection for the place, so much unending curiosity. The desert wind called to him sometimes. It called to him and whispered thoughts and hopes and dreams and filling him with a certain yearning, a longing for the unknown.

He had always been a seeker of mystery, after all. This was mirrored in his profession.

It was a dangerous job, the art of cursebreaking, and it was also a capricious one. The tombs of Egypt were old, very old, and with that age came a dark power, one that he'd seen many times before in his years of working in this ancient country. Egypt had once been a great empire.

And suitable to its legacy, Ancient Egyptian magic was some of the most powerful magic that had ever existed and there was no doubt that it'd always maintain that label. As much as he didn't want to admit it… that power terrified him.

Approaching the large, white mansion before him, he couldn't help but feel just a little afraid of the people inside.

He had seen that darkness at work. He had seen what it could do and the damage that it could cause within the tombs. And that had only been remnants, small samples of its true potential- he could only imagine how amazingly catastrophic the uncontaminated version would be.

As they walked across the neat, pruned entryway towards the house in question, he glanced towards his companions, trying to read them. Of course- it was a pointless pursuit given who, exactly, his companions were.

Albus Dumbledore had never been possible to read, especially with everything going on. And Snape? Well, Snape had never been a particular emotional creature- he always looked the same. Always the same snarl at least.

But they knew what they were getting themselves into by coming here. They knew, and they probably knew this dark power almost as well as he did… if not just as well.

Nonetheless, Bill couldn't help but wonder what, exactly, was going through their minds as they neare the large, white door that was, obviously, the entrance of the house in question. He steeled himself. He shouldn't be afraid. He wouldn't be afraid. Not of this.

If everything went according to plan, the Ishtars would soon be their allies. And allies were to be trusted, weren't they?

He wasn't so sure. Given the way the rest of the Order had been acting regarding the entire situation...

He supposed that he'd just have to wait and see what happened.

The door opened before they knocked, revealing a young man with long, blonde hair, a strange assortment of jewelry, and a pair of curiously violet eyes that narrowed slightly as he inspected them suspiciously.

"We weren't told that we'd have visitors today. I'm sorry, but Isis prefers to schedule appointments for meetings." he frowned, making to close the door.

"Oh, but my dear boy- we are here to see the head of the Ishtar family for a reason. We have important matters to attend to."

The boy froze, "Of what sort?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in their merry way as he answered, "Of the most magical sort imaginable."

.~.~.

"Bakura-san, have you ever considered that your symptoms may be psychosomatic? I mean to say, with your history..."

"What part of my history are you referring to?"

The doctor had stayed silent for a moment, looking at Ryou carefully, as though considering his own words, "Bakura-san, we both know that your mental health history isn't necessarily clean, and I've already run tests. According to your bloodwork, there is nothing out of the ordinary-"

"I'm not imagining this." his voice was strong but inside he was drowning.

"And I'm not saying that you are. I'm merely suggesting a possibility. Have you had any blackouts recently?"

Ryou became ice. "No. No, I haven't." his voice was cold and flat, and he could feel himself shaking, "I'm not imagining this."

"I'm not."

**.~.~.**

She arrived with a noble air, graceful limbs long and dark hair even longer. Her face was shrouded in a veil of sorts, possibly a homage to her religion. Intelligent eyes of a beautiful blue surveyed the motley group of three with a shocking intensity.

Bill repressed the urge to shiver.

The woman, however, obviously wasn't impressed, "And who might these people be? Malik, I was in a telephone conference with some very important politicians..." she reprimanded the sandy-haired boy that she stood next to in Arabic.

Did she know that everyone before her was fluent in the language? He wasn't sure.

He shrugged, an obviously contrived nonchalance painted across noble features. He then answered in their native tongue, "I don't know. They asked for you." a pause, "But I... I can sense something coming from them, Isis, especially the old man."

A meaningful look passed between her and 'Malik'. She stiffened, stepping in front of him protectively before regarding Bill and his companions with suspicious eyes.

"We mean you no harm, of that I assure you." Dumbledore said, his voice a knife cutting the tense silence. His kept his expression kind.

"Who are you, then?" the boy spoke up from behind the woman, voice surprisingly cold and eyes like daggers.

Dumbledore chose his words carefully, "We are merely... interested parties."

"Cut your bullshit. Diplomacy will get you nowhere."

Appearing unperturbed by his bluntness, Dumbledore instead tried a different approach. He turned towards the woman, "Isis Ishtar, I presume?"

She nodded curtly, eyes cautious, "That is I. Now, answer my original question: who are you, and what do you want?"

"May we all sit down, Miss Ishtar?" Bill inquired, finally deciding to try and attempt to ease the tension of the room. After all, it was better than just hanging around and causing discomfort. They were here for a reason.

Glancing at him, she nodded once again before gesturing for them to follow.

They soon arrived into a large receiving room, fairly modern in appearance and not at all as intimidating as one would imagine. In honesty, he had imagined countless treasures made of pure gold and large, fancy tapestries and maybe even multiple servants in this big house.

There weren't even any sculptures, nor were there any tapestries. The walls were relatively bare and a rich brown in color, and there were paintings here and there, of the Mediterranean Sea and the desert and other such pretty landscapes. The furnishings were rather modest as well, simple and fairly comfortable.

There were no photographs.

Once everyone had settled down into their respective seats, Bill perched on his spot on the couch rather awkwardly alongside a scowling Severus Snape, silence reigned.

Of course, this didn't last for very long. Malik, who had previously standing in the doorway with an expression of irritation carved onto his features, stomped into the room, practically throwing himself onto the sofa near his sister (who, herself, was sitting rather rigidly in the loveseat nearby), finally spoke once more, "So, are you ready to answer my sister's questions, or are you going to just sit there and continue your idiocy? Tell. Us. Why. You're. Here."

"Malik. Be calm." Isis Ishtar ordered him authoritatively before regarding the unfamiliar visitors. She appeared to be very calm herself, but surely she couldn't be. Bill couldn't imagine being calm on the other end of this situation, with three unfamiliar men at his door and speaking of magic. Especially given the Ishtar family history.

He was surprised at her air of composure.

"Miss Ishtar, are you aware of the situation that the magical world is currently in?" Dumbledore started.

Isis blinked, "My family no longer affiliated with your kind, nor have we been for many years. It has been explicitly stated that we are not... welcome."

"Ah, yes, I thought that this would be the case. Severus!"

Already prepared, Severus Snape pulled up his left sleeve. The Mark was black, raw, and angry, slightly raised with scarring. The boy, Malik, suddenly looked ill.

"I'm sure that you've heard tell of Voldemort's return?" Dumbledore asked, "Even outside of the wizarding world, there have been whispers."

"Put that away." she glanced towards her brother, "Malik?" He blinked, looking away from the Mark and at her.

"Are you alright? She questioned with caution, and he frowned.

"Me? Yeah, fine..."

Receiving a nod from Dumbledore, Snape lowered his sleeve, tucking it away with ease.

"Yes, I've heard. There have been murders recently, it seems?" Isis, placated (if only slightly) by her brother's response, redirected her attention towards the trio.

"Many more people have died, more than I would have ever hoped." blue eyes sorrowful, Dumbledore seemed to have finally gauged the situation, "Voldemort has returned."


	6. Chapter V

******Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu Yu Hakusho, or Harry Potter. I am merely a devoted fan with an after-story monster thing. All rights reserved.**

* * *

**.~.~.**

**V.**

**.~.~.**

Tired.

He was tired of being considered unstable. He was tired of blackouts. He was tired of being unable to trust his mind, his perceptions. Tired of being tired.

Sometimes he wondered if his entire life after the accident had just been some sort of nightmare, a dream that he had while in a coma. Maybe one day he'd awaken to find that his mother was still alive. That Amane was safe and sound. That his family was whole. Or maybe he wouldn't wake up at all. At this point, both were welcome.

Anything but this.

Entering his apartment, exhaustion weighed down his every step as he took his shoes off at the door, dropped his bag in the living room, and went straight for his bed. He couldn't think anymore.

He was just too tired.

**.~.~.**

"I see." her eyes were inscrutable, "And why are you here?"

"We are here to offer a treaty."

"Oh? Of what sort?" she leaned forward in interest.

"We need your assistance."

"But why? Our clan has had nothing to do with Wizarding London for centuries. We have been exiled." a pause, "What changed this?"

"I am afraid that we are desperate." the twinkle had left his eyes completely now, "We need your clan to ally with us. If your powers were to fall into the wrong hands- it would be the end of civilization as we know it."

"I see."

Silence reigned.

**.~.~.**

The shadows called to him in his dreams. They called to him, and he wanted to follow them, to listen, to let them take him away.

And so he did.

Suddenly he could feel cold hands pulling, pulling, dragging him into the darkness. It was unsettling. It was unsettling and suddenly he wanted to fight them. He didn't want to lose himself.

He didn't want to.

It was piercing, the light that engulfed his dream. Pure, blinding. It chased the shadows away.

**.~.~.**

"Will you help us? Will you sign the Treaty as the master of your clan?"

She laughed aloud at this, her eyes sparkling and the tenseness leaving her body, "Well, you would have to ask my brother. After all, he is the leader that you are looking for."

**.~.~.**

He was at a crossroads.

Should he allow himself to disappear? Or should he choose the unknown?

He wasn't sure which fate was worse- reliving the past or disappearing completely. How does one choose the lesser of two evils? Fear was holding him back. This god, this Koenma... he seemed trustworthy and good. But if he were good, why would he lobby for this dark soul, this 'other half' that once caused him so much despair?

He could feel himself fading by the moment. He didn't want to die. But did he want to live?

He had always felt so alone, a ghost on a place as tangible as earth. Always moving forward, but never going anywhere. Always simply living. At least, since the accident. Why would he want to continue that?

And yet...

There was something holding him to existence. He had a soul. He was alive, with blood and bone and a heart and a mind. He had so much life to live. What if this 'Koenma' was right? What if his tormenter, the creature that both destroyed his life and saved it, saved his life again?

He had been so alone after the accident. Moving from place to place, from home to home- to his grandparents and then his aunts and uncles. The Spirit of the Ring had changed that, though not for the better. He had still been just as alone, really, and filled with the fear that he was losing his mind.

But had the Spirit been amoral? Had he truly realized what it was that he was doing, or was he influenced by his own puppetmaster just like Ryou had been?

Suddenly Ryou realized what he had to do. He had to save them both. A dysfunctional existence was better than none at all. He prepared himself for the bonding.

"I am ready." his voice seemed unreal, a tinkling sound that he couldn't recognize.

"Have you chosen, then?" this 'Koenma's voice rang out strongly and with so much more power than Ryou's own. It cemented his choice.

"I accept."

**.~.~.**

He blinked as if coming from far away. "Yes, I will sign it. But there are a few things that you must know before you truly decide that you want us as allies."

"And what would these be, young Master Ishtar?"

"Don't call me that." Malik frowned, looking towards his sister as if gauging what to say.

"The Shadows are a dangerous thing to wield. However, they are an equally as dangerous thing to be exposed to. In exposing oneself to them, they are risking a fate much worse than death. They are not something to be meddled with.",his expression was melancholy, "I would know from experience."

Dumbledore nodded, "I have heard already that Shadow Magic is a most unpredictable art."

"More than unpredictable. The Shadows are simultaneously amoral and judging. They are powerful and they have the capacity to do much destruction in their full-unharnessed power." he shared a look with his sister.

"And we who wield the shadows are not necessarily stable ourselves. We can destroy the world at our worst, but we can save it at our best." he then turned to Albus Dumbledore, his expression very serious, "Are you sure that you can handle us?"

"But of course."

"Okay. If so, then you have the Ishtar clan's support. I will need to contact my comrades to find out if they are also willing to assist me. What, exactly, would you have us do?"

**.~.~.**

"I hoped that you would say that." His tone was warm and fond and very gentle, "This is going be a lot for your soul to handle, Ryou. Be prepared."

For once, he actually had a choice in the matter as he smiled and nodded in affirmation.

A perverse mixture of unimaginable pain and pleasure that he would never be able to put into words as much as he later tried to engulfed him. The world was gray and black and white and every color in between for just an instant before it transformed into something like the sun- blinding, almost burning in it's brilliance. And then– nothing.

Ryou slept well that night.

**.~.~.**

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Sorry for not updating last night, got caught up in stuff. Anyway, I think I'll do single daily updates up until chapter nine, which is where I've written up to. I usually update every few months, so don't expect for me to be fast. I'm not one to update consistently, but I don't plan on abandoning this story either. I'm in my last year of high school and graduation is coming up, so things will be busy? Yeah. Anyway, please review, it makes me really insecure when I don't get any. Which makes it harder for me to write. Which makes me get fewer reviews. Sigh. **

**Do you see my problem?**

**I really hope that you enjoyed, and any suggestions/comments are appreciated so long as you're very gentle with me. I am far too sensitive.**

**~starisfairy**


	7. Chapter VI

**********Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu Yu Hakusho, or Harry Potter. I am merely a devoted fan with an after-story monster thing. All rights reserved.**

* * *

**.~.~.**

**VI.**

**.~.~.**

He awoke feeling sore, but intact. Healthy, even... much healthier than he had felt in awhile. Why?

And then he remembered the dream- had it been a dream?

He wasn't sure. It felt too real. He had been too aware. There had been too much addressed. He wanted to believe that it had just been his imagination at play. He wanted to so badly. But he couldn't.

_"You have been chosen."_

He could still hear the words within him. He could remember the Shadows pulling at him and the feeling of wanting everything to end. He could still feel cold hands on his skin.

No, it must've been real. It couldn't have been a dream. It was impossible.

But then...

Fear consumed him. It ate at his insides and suddenly he wanted to run far, far away. But he couldn't.

You can't run away from what's inside of you.

And so he closed his eyes and left the physical world and searched himself, his mindscape, his soul. He could feel it. He could feel _him_.

But Ryou didn't know how he felt about that.

**.~.~.**

_"Do you have a name?"_

_The question came to him tinged with fear and wariness and many other emotions that were perhaps unnamed._

_'I do not know it.'_

_"Why?"_

_'It was lost long ago.'_

**.~.~.**

It had been three days.

Botan smiled at him, "Are you ready?"

A rhetorical question. Ryou returned the grin with an apprehensive one of his own and tried to prepare himself as best he could. It hadn't exactly been successful– the ride to Reikai was both thrilling and terrifying- more the latter.

He wasn't sure of what he should have expected when he saw the entirety of the Spirit World for the first time; perhaps pearly gates and pretty clouds and people dressed in white and acting dignified. But he never would have expected this.

The _oni _of legend were doing this and that- talking on the phone and arguing and printing papers with surprisingly normal-looking printers given that this was supposed to be a place for the gods. No, this was not what he expected at all.

He found himself wondering if Enma sat behind a computer screen all day and, without really trying, he found himself envisioning Seto Kaiba with a crown upon his head. He would have made a _wonderful_ aristocrat. He tried to hide the smile that crept upon his face and tried even harder to hold in the laughter.

Koenma's office held a rather unusual assortment of people. There were three boys: one who looked almost inhuman, with long, red hair and an angel's face; another with black hair with a classic Japanese look to him and a fighter's body; and yet another with a wild mane of jet-black flames and eyes like fire. Then there was Koenma, himself.

Ryou had envisioned a Kaiba-like aristocrat, and that was what he had gotten. Koenma looked the part of the prince that he was. At least something was as expected. He was happy for that.

"Now, I guess that you all know why you are here?"

When Koenma spoke, his voice seemed much less like an anchor than it had during his dream that wasn't a dream. But that was okay- this man, no god, had saved his life.

He still wasn't sure how to feel about that.

"So, what's the plan?" the boy with the fighter's body spoke. His way of speech was as casual as his stance.

"Be patient, Yusuke. I'm getting to that part. Anyway, as Kurama," he glanced at the red-haired boy, "so observantly gathered at our previous meeting, we have a war on our hands. The Human World is in turmoil once more."

"_Che_, the Human World is always at war with itself. What made this matter?"

"Surely you have heard tell of the London Bridge's destruction, Yusuke? The news reached Japan."

"I've heard whispers, yeah. Not much."

"It's been shrouded in mystery to the general public." the red-haired boy, Kurama spoke this time, "Even I had difficulty finding out the source without proper resources. It's why I was forced to ask Koenma about ti."

"Yes. Well, it's a very complex matter. There is a world within the Human World that remains hidden from most humans. Only legends remain of it." Koenma explained, "The Japanese Magic World used to be more a part of it, as did the Demon World, but that was long ago – before the barriers to the Demon World were put into place and before Dark Magic became an illegal practice. The Human World isn't so innocent as it would lead most to think." he paused dramatically, "The Magical Community in Human World is at war. It is out of control and Japan has been offered a Treaty."

Ryou still hadn't registered the idea that the Spirit World even existed. The idea that other magic was afoot, that there were others with similar powers and pasts to his... it was inconceivable.

"What, exactly, does this mean?"

Koenma turned to him.

"Why do you need us? Our powers aren't even of Japanese origin."

He hadn't realized that he had used the word 'us', referring to both him and his Other, until Koenma smiled, "It seems as though I was correct in my choice to bond you, Ryou. You are handling it better than I expected you to. Congratulations." Ryou blushed, "As for why you are needed? Well, Japan, with its connection to both the Human and Spirit World, isn't the only place that has been cut off."

It dawned on him then, "We who harness the Shadows were as well, then..."

"Somewhat. The Ishtar clan is still occasionally in contact with certain parts of the Western magical community, but only in passing. Usually for excavation and preservation purposes. Not all of Japan has been exiled, either, there is a magic school here for Japanese Wizards who seek to learn the Western Style. However, they have to take an oath to never practice our brands of magic."

"Why are only Western styles allowed?" Ryou was curious and with his curiousity came a confidence that he didn't know existed within him.

"With age comes power and wisdom. With power comes a certain instability that they fear. Your form of magic, as well as what they call 'Japanese Traditionalism'- any old magic, really, is too far vested in what they consider to be something almost evil."

"But why?"

"Our magic is amoral, and rather neutral for the most part. However, all things can be turned evil. Eastern Traditionalist forms of magic are more inclusive than Western Forms, less secretive. We who use these forms are also darker by nature. We do not bind ourselves to simple things like charming teacups like the Westerners do, nor do we try as hard to hide from the humans. In fact, so much Eastern Religion is so interconnected with magic that it'd be impossible to isolate ourselves from society completely like they would have us do." the red-haired boy filled in the gaps.

"You say that as if you aren't human yourself."

"Are you?"

Ryou thought for a moment.

"I suppose I'm not."

He then turned back to Koenma, "What does the Treaty entail?"

"Albus Dumbledore, head of a prestigious school teaching Western Magic, has contacted us through Genkai. We are to send ambassadors to help as a way of promising support."

"And we're the ambassadors." the red-haired boy (his name was Kurama, Ryou believed) finished for Koenma with confidence.

"Yes, you are. There are others that I would send, but you are the most powerful creatures that we have among the humans at this point in time. An ambassador from the Ishtar clan is to join us in our duties."

"Malik?" it escaped his mouth before he could stop himself. Everyone looked at him.

"Ah, good, I thought that you would know one another."

"But who the hell are you?" the black-haired boy with the lean muscles (Yusuke?) had clearly been itching to ask for awhile.

Ryou wasn't sure how to answer that. What did they know?

"He is your teammate for this mission. That's all that matters right now. You can make real introductions later."

Yusuke glared at him and Ryou felt self-conscious and just a tad irritated. He felt himself return the glare. _He _rustled within him.

Kurama glanced at him, but he wasn't sure what for? Had he sensed _him_ coming through?

"Hmph, of course you would drag me along, Koenma." his eyes still burned like fire and his voice was venom.

"Ah, but Hiei, this threat is a threat to all of the Worlds. Your powers are needed especially for spying." Koenma paused again in thought, "besides, Kuwabara has decided to stay back to continue his studies and protect Japan. We need you in England."

Ryou repressed a shiver as he glanced at the small boy named 'Hiei'. He could feel the Darkness coming from him- though it was not the same as his own. He wasn't human or anywhere near human and he was not of the Shadows.

A thought came to him, "But what about Yuugi?"

"Yuugi Mutou is a friend of yours, correct?"

"Yes."

"I feel as though it would be easier for him if you were to invite him on this mission."

A wave of sadness and apprehension encompassed him, "I'm not sure if that's a good idea. Yuugi-kun... I am not sure if he will still want to continue our friendship once he finds out about _him_. Besides, his other friends hold precedence."

"Ask him anyway. At worse, he will at least be able to help defend Japan. The 'light' side of the western magical community is not the only side recruiting– Voldemort is, as well. We need reinforcements."

Ryou nodded, but a question was on the tip in his tongue.

"You leave in three weeks. Now, shoo, shoo! Get packed up, say your goodbyes. I'll see you all before you leave."

Everyone else left without a thought, clearly used to ambiguity. Everyone but Ryou, that was. He stayed behind.

"Koenma-_sama_?"

"Yes?"

"Who is 'Voldemort'?"

"Ah, I feel as though the Westerners would be able to explain better than I. He is the darkness that they so fear."

"Do you fear him?"

"No. However, I fear what he hopes to create. I fear that he will destroy the delicate balance."

"I see." left with many questions and even more thoughts, he turned, ready to leave. He mounted Botan's paddle and smiled at her. And this time, Ryou was ready for the journey home.

Moreso than before, at least.

**.~.~.**

_"I see. I'm sorry for that. It must be hard, to be nameless."_

_'It was deserved. But I never lost my title.'_

_"What was it?"_

_'The King of Thieves.'_

**.~.~.**

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Another update! Don't have much to say, today, so yes. Please do review! I only have one so far, and the other version has 37. O_O It's been published for much longer though, so it does make sense. But still. **

**~starisfairy**


	8. Chapter VII

**Disclaimer:********Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu Yu Hakusho, or Harry Potter. I am merely a devoted fan with an after-story monster thing.**

* * *

**.~.~.**

**VII**

**.~.~.**

She wasn't an impressive figure.

She was small, tiny even. Her face would have once been considered beautiful, but she was very old and had a million little wrinkles and her hair was mostly gray – most of its color had faded. Her eyes were unsmiling.

She certainly didn't seem as though she were particularly dangerous or powerful.

But looks could be deceiving- everyone present knew that. In fact, looks could not only decieving but often were. This woman was no exception.

From what everyone could glean from Dumbledore's cryptic explanations, the two had known one another for many years. No one was sure of how long that might be, but it must've been long enough, for him to go to her as a representative for the Ministry and ask for assistance.

They weren't sure of how powerful she was, but apparently she must've been in order to be at her position in the Japanese magical community. But old woman or otherwise, powerful or not, her presence at an Order meeting was... unsettling.

She still practiced the Eastern Traditionalist craft, after all.

"I have called this meeting to welcome a new member to our ranks." Dumbledore's voice paused everyone's speculations, "This is Master Genkai, an old colleague of mine as well as a friend. I trust that you all will treat her with the respect that she deserves." there seemed to be an unspoken warning implied with that, though he seemed as cheerful as ever. With this, he gestured for her to choose a seat. She did so without comment.

"I decided to invite Genkai here today as a way of preparing everyone for what is to come. If you so please, dear friend-"

"My English is shit."

A few people frowned at the blatant language whilst others chuckled– Mrs. Weasely looked mortified. Dumbledore, however, didn't blink, "Ah, but I can understand you perfectly well, of that I assure you. I am sure that everyone else will be able to."

She frowned, "Very well then." a pause, "As you all know, many ancient magical traditions have long since been feared by you western folk."

Her English, while accented, was actually quite good, "In retrospect, it's quite understandable given the origins of our power. What your so-called 'authority' on magic fails to recognize, however, is that while our many forms of magic are often amoral, only some of us are truly evil beings... even our less human users."

"Less human?" Remus Lupin inquired, and everyone knew why he was interested – except, of course, Genkai herself.

"We don't seem to be as choose-y with who we teach our magic to. I understand that there are few non-human Wizards in your tradition?" she chuckled, "We would have died out long ago if that were the case. Fully human Japanese Traditionalists are rare. The same goes for many of the older forms of magic."

"Are you human?" the question was accusatory and coming from one Alastor Moody.

"That is none of your business, and you'd do best to not be so forward with the ambassadors that shall be arriving in a few week's time. They are young and don't have the same patience that I have gained through age. They'd probably kill you."

"Why, but they're only children!" Molly Weasley spoke up, aghast.

"Children are always the most powerful, you know. We often peak in late adolescence and early adulthood." Genkai looked thoughtful, "If we reach that age at all."

Molly whitened.

"Who, exactly, are the ambassadors representing your country?" Lupin changed the subject deftly and before Mrs. Weasley could reply.

"That's a very complex answer to a very simple question." the old woman said with an air of mystery, "The group in question is very much a variant one. I only know three of them well. One of them is my protégé." she looked almost fond.

Now everyone was interested.

Genkai didn't seem particularly interested herself, however, "Three of them are Japanese Traditionalists – Kurama, Hiei, and Yusuke Urameshi. I've known them for going on five years now. One of them is a bit of a wild card. I believe that he is affiliated with the Ishtar clan, though it appears that he's lived in Japan for the past few years. Ryou Bakura is his name. I've never met him." she frowned, "That's all that I can tell you about them. Ask them when they arrive if you are so curious."

She left the Order with a million questions and very few answers in the end.

**.~.~.**

Kurama waited until their next meeting to tell her. He needed time to think about what to say. He'd already used up so many different explanations and excuses.

"Mother?"

"Yes, Shuuichi?" she cut up the leek carefully, preparing to put its contents into her miso.

"I have been considering some things."

"What sort of things, dear?"

"I want to see the world." it was a lie. Kurama had already seen his three thousand years worth of the world.

"I see." she was calm, "When will you be leaving?"

It was one of the things that made her so important to him, that allowance of freedom. She wanted him to grow. She didn't pry and she didn't ask questions when he wouldn't share as much as a parent would want him to.

It kept her safe.

"Three weeks."

"How long will you be gone?"

"I'm not sure."

She smiled at him, but he could see the knowing in her eyes that he wished he couldn't see, "Don't stray too far, Shuuichi."

"I won't." he loved her so, "I promise."

**.~.~.**

"Apparation is a horrible invention. I can't imagine who the hell would be idiotic enough to create something like it."

Dumbledore chuckled heartily, "I can understand how you feel that way. It isn't particularly pleasant." his expression turned serious, "You are hiding something. I can tell."

"There is much to be known about these boys. They will tell you what you need to know in their own time."

"We know nothing of their abilities or their backgrounds. How are we to trust them?"

"You trust me. They are no different than I am."

"The entirety of the Order is hesitant to trust you, as well."

"That is their ignorance. All that you need to know as of right

now are two things."

"And what might these be?"

"Treat them with respect and do not underestimate them."

"They are children."

"And you are foolish," Genkai chuckled, "Thinking like that will be your undoing. Don't underestimate them."

**.~.~.**

Ryou sighed, trying to gather up the courage to open up the door of Yuugi's family's store. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to lose another friend... not after everything. He'd lost so many already.

He opened the door anyway.

"Hello, welcome to_Kame_ Game Shop!"

He'd never met Yuugi's mother before– and he could tell that she was his mother by her features and haircolor. She was taller that he had expected.

"Ah, hello. Is Yuugi-kun available?"

"Oh, one of Yuugi's friends! I'll go get him right now."

"Thank you very much." and he really was thankful. But mostly scared and already very sad.

"Bakura-kun!" Yuugi's voice was anxious.

Ryou looked up. Yuugi's voice wasn't the only thing depicting concern as he skidded to a halt in front of him, breathing somewhat heavily. Had he been running?

"Are you okay?"

"What?"

"You missed the last two days of school until the end of summer break! We've been calling you all weekend, but you haven't answered. Jounouchi-kun even stopped by a few times!" Yuugi's eyebrow furrowed, "That, and you've been acting strangely recently. None of the teachers would tell us anything."

"Oh, yes. I apologize." Ryou couldn't make himself look at him, "I had a doctor's appointment on Thursday and I was busy on Friday. Once again, I apologize." he bowed.

"It's fine! We were just worried is all."

"I- I actually came here to discuss something very important. Can we talk somewhere quiet?" indeed, the game shop was not a very quiet place– nor was it a particularly private one. Sensing Ryou's intent, Yuugi nodded. He led them up to his room. Yet another thing that Ryou had never seen before.

"It's nice in here." and it was. Its colorful interior suited its inhabitant quite well, indeed.

Yuugi beamed, "Thank you. So, what was it that you needed to talk about?"

"_Ano..."_ he fumbled for words, "It's hard to explain."

"Try!"

"Well, I suppose you could say that it has to do with magic."

"The Shadows." Yuugi caught on quickly, "So does that mean that you have noticed them as well?"

"Yes." Ryou was stalling now, he knew that he was, "I don't know why, but I've noticed it, too."

"Do you think it has to do with the destruction of the Items?"

"... Perhaps. But that isn't the point. Recently, some events occurred that lead me to believe that the Shadows are not the only magical force that exist."

"What do you mean?"

"Would you believe me if I told you that I met a god the other day?"

"What?"

"I... I've been recruited for some sort of mission in England. To help bring balance to the world. This King Enma Jr. says that I'm one of the only people that has the ability to do anything about it."

"But why?"

"It's some sort of exchange to save me. To save my soul."

"What do you mean?"

Ryou looked at him and he was sure that Yuugi could see the sadness in his eyes, "He's back, Yuugi-kun. I had to-"

Yuugi gasped, standing up and backing away from him with something like fear and something else like hatred, "How is he alive? Why would you let him back into you?"

His voice was venom.

**.~.~**.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Haha, I even manage to post chapter reposts later than expected. This is a problem. But oh well, here it is! Chapter Seven is here! Woohoo!**

**~starisfairy (who is currently plotting chapter nine and believes that it will be upby sometime next week because fae is a Big Lazy Loser)**


	9. Chapter VIII

**Disclaimer: ************I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu Yu Hakusho, or Harry Potter. I am merely a devoted fan with an after-story monster thing.**

* * *

**.~.~.**

**VII.**

**.~.~.**

"Look, Keiko, I'm sorry-"

"Save it." she was fury, "I shouldn't have expected anything else from you."

"It isn't my choice. If I didn't need to go I wouldn't."

"The last time you left took three years."

"But I warned you beforehand! We even-" he pointed to the ring on her finger.

...Perhaps that had been a bad idea.

"Oh, so the proposal was just an apology for leaving back then? That's good to know."

"No, no! I didn't mean it like that." he took a deep breath, "Keiko, this is for our future."

"Don't. Don't tell me that you have to 'save the world'. You've already saved the world too many times. You've already sacrificed too much. This isn't fair to me. To us." the anger was melting now and turning quickly into tears, "We were only just settling down after everything."

She was sobbing and Yusuke wasn't quite sure of what to do.

He wasn't much for hugging, not really. It had always felt awkward to him. Wrestling felt much more natural– at least you didn't have to try to be gentle. Urameshi Yusuke didn't do gentle. But Urameshi Yusuke had done a lot of things that he didn't do in the last few years, so, unnatural or otherwise, he wrapped his arms around her, "Hey, stop that."

"Why should I?" her voice was muffled in his T-shirt and she was still sniffling, "You're leaving."

"Silly girl." girls were so unreasonable given how smart they were other times, "I'm not leaving for forever. I'll only be gone for a few months. A year, at most." she looked up at him and he smiled in what he hoped to be a reassuring fashion, "And I'll call ya every few days."

"You will?"

"Of course I will! What would I do without my anchor? I'd float away~" he pointed out the window towards the setting sun dramatically.

"You really would." she returned the smile. His T-shirt was wet now with her tears.

He found that he really didn't mind.

"Why do you have to leave, exactly? Can you just tell me that?"

"It's complicated."

"And that's bullshit."

Yusuke laughed aloud. It wasn't often that Keiko cursed and it was surprisingly nice to hear.

"If I help with this last mission, they'll finally let me be free. King Enma will never bother us again. We won't be watched anymore. No more eyes on our backs. We'll be free."

"There is always a price to freedom. Why is this mission so important that they would put so much at stake?"

He wished that he knew.

"I'm not sure. Koenma said that it affects the balance of all of the worlds."

Keiko relented, "Do you promise that you will take care? Don't be impulsive."

"I'll try-" she glared. He really didn't want to start another argument, "Fine, fine! I will be careful. I've already used up all of my chances, anyway."

"I love you."

"... I love you, too."

**.~.~.**

_"Erm, hi. This is Malik. Malik Ishtar. I know that we aren't on the best of terms, but something important has come up and we need to talk. It has to do with past events and events soon to come. Anyway, thanks for listening, and call me back as soon as you get this if you can. Okay, bye."_

So apparently the Ishtar clan had already been contacted, as well. Good. It meant less explaining and more planning.

... Ryou was actually surprised at how normal Malik seemed on a recording. Just a typical teenager. The content of the message hadn't been, but the person? The person had in many ways. It made him wonder.

He dialed the callback number and prepared himself.

The answering language was Arabic. Ryou wasn't quite sure of what Malik was saying – most likely a greeting of some sort.

"Hello, is this Malik Ishtar? This is Bakura Ryou. I am calling in response to the voicemail that you sent today. I'm not quite sure of the time there, sorry if I'm intruding-"

_"Oh, Bakura! Hello! No, it isn't a problem. I might've called too late last night for you to answer- five hour time difference. Timezones are a bitch, you know?" _Malik switched to Japanese immediately. Impressive.

Ryou laughed, "Yes, yes they are."

He hoped that he didn't sound as uncomfortable as he felt.

_"So, how have you been?"_

"Ah, it's been an interesting few months. Ups and downs. Actually, I was planning on contacting you today due to some important events that occurred recently."

_"Same, same."_ Malik chuckled, _"You go first."_

"I take it that you've been contacted in regards to what's happening in England?"

He didn't seem surprised, _"Yes, actually. Were you recruited by your country, then? The man who we met with told us that the Japanese have been involved."_

"I am part of the Japanese team. Will you be leaving in three weeks as well?"

_"Yes."_

"Good. I suppose that I will see you then?"

_"Perfect. By the way-"_

Ryou sighed, "Malik-kun, it's fine. There's a lot that I can't tell you right now and I know that you probably feel the same. We can discuss all of this in person. It's fine."

He was too tired right now to feel any anger or bitterness after everything. Sadness was enough.

_"Sounds good. See you then."_

**.~.~.**

Three weeks had passed, and Kurama was done packing. He had said his goodbyes.

They had been brief, but they done what they were supposed to do. His step-father had told him that he was still allowed to work at his company when he came back– it didn't matter how long it took. His step-brother had been distracted by something, presumably the girl that he was dating in secret.

And his mother? She had smiled, giving him a tender hug and a kiss on the cheek and telling him to stay in contact. There had been no tears or sadness. Shuichi was a grown man, if a 'young' one. It was only natural for him to want to explore the world.

If only they had known.

(But he was glad that they didn't.)

And so here he was – sitting at the kitchen table in his little apartment and pondering.

It had been a long time since he had seen the Wizards, nearly a thousand years. The last memory that he had of them was stealing from a prestigious Wizarding bank called 'Gringots', where the warnings preached on about high security.

'High security', indeed. That place had been easier to steal from than some of the less secure Egyptian temples – and he had gone rather deep into the catacombs of the bank as well. What are a few dragons compared to Ancient Egyptian curses?

That was one of his last memories of Human World before the barrier had been erected. He'd had to steal from other demons after that – which was, in retrospect, a tad more challenging. Still. He wondered if they had remembered his name.

A knock at the door.

He could feel Genkai's present behind it along with an energy that spoke of the Western craft. So Albus Dumbledore had come to deliver them personally. He almost felt flattered.

Albus Dumbledore – and Kurama knew that this was him, there were few Wizards who had as strong Spirit Energy and he had done his research – was not an intimidating man. He was old by Human standards, perhaps Genkai's age, tall, and his eyes seemed constantly amused. His hair was long and white.

He looked the stereotype.

But, at the same time... Kurama sensed something coming from him. A taint on his Life Energy. A curse of some sort?

"Ah, Genkai, how are you this fine morning?"

"As old and bitter as ever. All packed?"

"Of course."

Dumbledore was looking at him with curious eyes now, observing and searching – presumably for the why Kurama was one of the ambassadors to begin with.

"And you are?" he asked it as a question for information's sake.

He knew who Dumbledore was. He was an important figure in the magical community according to multiple sources. However, he knew nothing of Dumbledore's personality nor his motivations.

He wanted to know.

"I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am also one of the leading parties in the war that is happening." Dumbledore's Japanese wasn't perfect – it was overly formal, just a tad too polite. But it was decent.

"I see. I am Kurama. The rest isn't of consequence."

"Another single name? Fascinating. Is there a particular reason for you to avoid divulging your birth name?"

"Not one that should matter."

"I see." Kurama could still see the spark of curiousity, "Well, we should be going then!"

Kurama had never Apparated before. He would have preferred running any day.

.

Bakura Ryou was a fascinating boy, indeed.

For all of his digging, Kurama couldn't find much on him. At least nothing that could be pieced together into answers. A few newspaper and magazine articles had been among his findings– three spanning for the last four years and one two from the past year.

The first had been a piece discussing a car accident in which two deaths had occurred – Bakura had been the only survivor. Not much had been mentioned other than that his mother – Alice – and sister – Amane – had been the ones who had died. The boy had gotten out with few lasting injuries. But Kurama knew that it wasn't the full story.

The next two articles, however, had been very interesting. It seemed that Bakura didn't have the best luck in regards to relationships. Comas. Lots of them. These, too, mentioned no details– only speculations and accusations and other such subjective viewpoints.

He wondered what the story behind that was. Most likely cases of inadvertent magic. It happened to every human when their abilities came to them, though often in harmless ways – but Bakura hadn't been lucky. This was, of course, more speculation.

The last two articles had been magazine articles discussing card game tournaments. 'Duel Monsters' was the name, and it had originated in the United States. It appeared to be quite popular, and the boy in question had been in the top five at an international tournament held by Kaiba Corporation. It seemed to be of little consequence, but it was something.

Spirit World didn't always recruit innocent parties for their dirty work. Kurama would know. Perhaps young Bakura was atoning for some sort of sin or owed a favor.

And then there had been the Spirit at their first recruitment meeting and the meeting that Bakura had attended, himself. They appeared to have a connection of some sort. Could they have been soul fragments?

When Albus Dumbledore had knocked on his door, he had answered with great haste, looking just a tad nervous.

Ryou had never met Genkai, nor had he met Albus Dumbledore, but he did recognize Kurama and Yusuke. He brightened, "Hello! Are you here to retrieve me for the mission, then?"

"Are you Bakura Ryou?" Dumbledore.

"Yes! And who might you be? Are you one of the people from England?"

"Indeed. I am Albus Dumbledore."

"I see. It's nice to meet you." Bakura Ryou smile was disarming... but Kurama could tell that it was contrived. Not many would be able to, however. It was the perfect mask.

Kurama felt an eyebrow raise. The boy certainly seemed fascinating. Kurama loved mysteries.

He loved mysteries, but this was one for another time. Right now?

Right now it was time to start a new mission.

.**~.~.**

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Okay, this is the second to last chapter that I have before I run out of prewritten material. I do not update often, I usually do it every few months or so. I will try to update faster, but I can't make any promises. If you could review, it'd be great! **

**Also, I am going to make a pretty big A/N at the end of chapter nine in regards to this story and pairings/etc. Which will be? Either tomorrow or the next day. And then I have to write chapter 10! Try to hold me to it, it's on my Creative Writing course's assignments for this week. Independent study is useful sometimes. :)**

**~starisfairy**


	10. Chapter IX

******Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu Yu Hakusho, or Harry Potter. I am merely a devoted fan with an after-story monster thing.**

* * *

**.~.~.**

**IX.**

**.~.~.**

* * *

Ryou had already decided that Apparition was not the ideal way to travel– it felt as though his lungs had been crushed. Before he could well and truly breathe again, a small piece of paper was shoved underneath his eyes.

'The Order of the Phoenix can be found at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, London.' it read. An address?

But when he looked up at the row of houses towering above him, there was no Number 12 Grimmauld Place. There was an 11 and there was a 12, but it looked as though Number 12 had been skipped.

He found himself wondering why someone would make such a silly mistake, especially given how large the houses in this neighborhood seemed to be and how expensive he could guess that they were. One would think that the builders would have been more careful…

"Concentrate on what you just read." it was as if Dumbledore had sensed his confusion, but perhaps he hadn't been the only one. When he glanced at his new comrades, he found that they looked rather perplexed themselves.

Ryou did as he was told.

It had appeared out of thin air and squeezed itself between Number 11 and Number 13, and it was just as large as the other two… if a tad more foreboding. It seemed cold and unlivable from the outside. As they neared the door to the massive townhouse, Ryou decided that it really didn't look any better up close. On the door, there held the address and a most unsightly decorative piece featuring shrunken and inhuman heads- were those real?

Dumbledore didn't bother knocking.

The entire house hummed with something that Ryou couldn't name. The only thing that he could liken it to was white noise or static. But it was more intense than that, more penetrating. He didn't like it.

And then the screaming began. It was shrill and angry and Ryou couldn't quite make out what the woman was saying– something about 'mudbloods' and 'muggles' and 'inhuman beasts' 'disgracing the house of Black'.

It stopped soon enough as he heard the sound of heavy curtains being drawn quite forcefully, which was then replaced by a much softer and kinder voice, "Is that you, Albus?" She was a mother. He could always tell – motherly types never failed to remind him of his own. She was small, plump, and she had a face just as kind as her voice had been. Her hair was fire.

"Yes, Molly, it is I. I have come to deliver our Japanese ambassadors to their first meeting."

Molly. Ryou wondered what her family was like – it must've been a nice one.

"Oh, dear! Are these boys the representatives?" she studied them. Her eyes were sharper than he would've guessed just by looking at her. They weren't quite as motherly as the rest of her was.

"Indeed."

The woman's face paled slightly as she pursed her lips. Her voice, however, was still quite calm, "Well, then, take them into the dining room. The meeting's just begun."

The inside of the house was nearly as gloomy as the outside, but it was bigger than he would have guessed. Nonetheless, it didn't take them very long to reach the dining room.

It was filled with a motley assortment of people – a girl with mousy, brown hair who was perhaps in her twenties sat next to a man who's face looked as though he'd been through a war; one of his eyes seemed to be mechanical and the way in which he looked at him made him feel as though his soul was being searched… though Ryou knew that this wasn't the case. Or was it?

There were many others as well, but these two stood out to him more than the others. The girl didn't seem like she was supposed to have hair of that color… it was too plain for her. Her spirit was fire. Ryou wasn't sure why. And, well, the man with the strange eye stood out for obvious reasons.

The buzzing was worse in here, louder and stronger. It was making him feel nauseous, and he could feel a headache blooming. He glanced towards his comrades.

…Was he the only one who could feel it?

He could dimly register Dumbledore's voice welcoming them into the 'The Order of the Phoenix' as he sat down on the seats that were summoned from, seemingly, nowhere.

He couldn't bring himself to suprised. Things suddenly weren't connecting the same way— he couldn't think and he was tired, so tired. It was a familiar feeling.

Ryou had thought that this was over.

**.~.~.**

Kurama could feel the power coursing through the house. It was electricity running through him – the energy was everywhere. It crackled in the air.

It wasn't a particularly powerful form. It wouldn't be noticeable in a crowd full of normal humans– but there was too much of it. In this concentration, it'd be difficult for anyone with any significant spiritual awareness to tune out. He was sure that his teammates were feeling it as well. So this was Wizard Neo-Magic—he could barely recognize it from how it used to be. Then again, he'd been much less powerful a thousand years ago. Perhaps that was it.

He doubted it.

Redirecting his attention, he studied the people in the room. There were ten Order members present including both Genkai and Dumbledore and excluding both him and his new team mates – from a rather disfigured man missing an eye and sporting a – surprisingly Demonic– one in it's stead to what seemed to be a family of red-heads to an older woman wearing a very pointy hat with severe expression on her face to a man with greasy, black hair and an interesting air to him– a spy, perhaps?

How very eclectic.

"What are your names, ages, and ranks?" the man with the Demonic eye broke the silence. He directed his gaze towards Yusuke first, who shrugged but didn't answer.

"Ah, I apologize." Kurama interrupted the exchange in English, himself, "Yusuke only speaks Japanese. One moment, please."

He then switched to Japanese, turning towards his rather disgruntled friend, "How much English do you know?"

Yusuke frowned and shrugged again, "Not enough. Keiko's been trying to make me learn some phrases, but none of it really stuck. What the hell did he just ask me?"

"I guessed as much. He asked for your name, rank, and age."

"You know that as well as I do."

Few who were present seemed to understand the exchange, instead looking on with mystification.

"I will speak for my comrades tonight as it seems that I am the only one entirely fluent in English." Yusuke looked irritated, but didn't contest, and Hiei didn't comment, which Kurama took as a 'yes'.

"…I'll speak for myself, if that's alright. I'm fluent as well." Bakura's English was perfectly accented and melodic, practiced. Something clicked – his mother's name had been Alice. A British name. So that was why he didn't look entirely Japanese…

He looked paler than he had when they had arrived.

Kurama disregarded it. He could find out later. He nodded in assent before addressing the man with the curious eye, "I am Kurama. I am nineteen. I am a former member of the Japanese Magical Government – I was part of a team with Yusuke Urameshi and Hiei." he pointed to both in turn, "Well, I suppose that we are now part of a team, as well, but of a different nature that the one that we were on back then. Yusuke was our leader of sorts back then. Yusuke is eighteen."

The man, surprisingly, didn't comment on the fact that Kurama hadn't mentioned Hiei's age— good,"How long have you worked for the Japanese Ministry?"

"Nearly five years."

A few people's expressions turn into ones of disapproval at that. Was it his age that bothered them so? In retrospect, he supposed that the age of fifteen, in human years, was an early age to start working for the government. But the situation had never really been typical anyway.

"Why did your government agree to send you here, and why did they pick you four as representatives?"

"I believe that our government signed a treaty promising you our assistance. As for why we were picked? Well, your 'Ministry of Magic' asked for our government's strongest team with the widest range of talents."

"And that's you?" his Demonic eye was trying to read something off of Kurama – not that it could get much. It didn't appear to be particularly powerful. A low-level artifact, D class at most. It wouldn't be able to read anything off of him other than the most basic of information.

"It is."

"Why did you choose to come?"

"That is… personal."

"How can we trust that you are being honest, then?"

"I suppose that you will simply have to."

"And why would we do that?"

Kurama was vaguely irritated, now, this man wasn't powerful enough for him to be questioning in such a way.

"We are not the ones that asked you for help. Your Ministry asked us. We can leave should you choose to not trust us based on your misconceptions of our magical abilities." he wondered why, when he said that, a few people flinched. Was his true nature showing through? He had to reign his emotions in. This wasn't the time to be scaring everyone.

The man, who had clearly been through a war and lived to remember it for no one who hadn't been through a war or had some kind of training could have been this calm among something this unpredictable, didn't blink, "And what might those abilities be?"

"I suppose that you'll have to wait and see, will you not? We will show you when we choose to."

The tension was rising, and the man with the Demonic eye studied him for a moment.

"Very well, then. If Dumbledore trusts you, I suppose that I must tolerate you being here." a pause, "That does not, by any means, mean that I trust you myself. Nor do any of us." he gestured to the rest of the Order, who looked on without reaction.

"And that is fine. We are not here to seek approval."

The tense silence that had lifted earlier had come back heavier than ever, but Kurama was unperturbed. He had only spoken the truth – they were not here for approval or friendship. And if these naïve—for that was what they truly seemed to be—humans chose not to trust them? It was their choice. It'd only hurt them in the long run, really.

The man spoke again, "One last question: what does He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named know about you that we don't?"

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Is that your name for Voldemort?" nearly everyone save for Dumbledore shuddered again and Kurama knew that he was correct in his assumption, "Nothing that we know of."

The man glared but didn't continue speaking. Dumbledore, seeing that the interview (interrogation) of sorts had ended for the time being, interjected, "I suppose that it is time for introductions on the Order's part as well, then!"

Kurama had been right – the two red-heads in the room other than him were, in fact, a family; they had many children and were a married couple. Molly and Arthur Weasley. The man who had been questioning him was named Alastor, or 'Mad-Eye' Moody, and other people present included Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Nymphadora Tonks, and Albus Dumbledore. There were apparently many other members of the Order that had been busy with other appointments and assignments

So this was a large organization, then.

But… if this was a large organization full of people with at least semi-significant abilities… why did they fear this 'Voldemort' so thoroughly that they couldn't even manage to use his name?

The only answers that he could come up with were more questions.

There was a lull in conversation, introductions were done and the room was only slightly less tense than before. Alastor Moody looked ready to continue his interrogation and was eyeing Bakura with a mixture of interest and suspicion.

Kurama almost pitied him.

"What is your name, boy?" Moody's tone was just as sharp and biting as it had been before as he addressed him, but Bakura didn't react. He only blinked.

"My name?" he parroted, dazed. His voice was quiet, nearly a whisper. He was shaking slightly.

Was it fear?

No, it couldn't be. Bakura didn't look afraid. His breathing wasn't as even as it had been and he was shaking, but it wasn't out of fear. Kurama could smell fear. This wasn't it.

Was the Neo-Magic's current affecting him to this extent?

Though, if it was affecting Kurama enough to make him more snappish (and he was, by nature, quite calm), then perhaps it could affect the boy in such a way. He was seemingly young, after all.

Bakura's eyes cleared somewhat and his voice sounded stronger this time, "Apologies, I was thinking… I am Ryou Bakura."

Moody looked unimpressed, "State your age, rank, and affiliation with the Japanese Government."

Bakura was more prepared now and answered rather quickly. Apparently he was used to working through duress, "I am seventeen. I am not sure what you mean by 'rank', I only recently allied with the Japanese Government and have not had a rank assigned to me. However, I am a part of this team…" he gestured towards his 'comrades'—Kurama, Hiei, and Yusuke in turn, "As I already said, I only recently allied with the Japanese Government…"

"How recently might this have been?" Moody interrupted abruptly. It seemed to be something that he was prone to doing rather often. How rude.

"This is my first mission. I was recruited around a month ago."

"What did you do before? If you weren't affiliated with the Japanese Government until recently, when and how did you receive your training?"

"I was a student at a Japanese high school. Multiple, actually. I always have hated staying in one place." he smiled ruefully at that. There was backstory there.

"A Muggle school?"

"Muggle?" Bakura looked somewhat perplexed.

"It means non-magical folk." Dumbledore interjected warmly, smiling. It was quite interesting, the dynamic in this group. Moody was a war-hardened veteran, and surely Dumbledore was, too—perhaps he simply hid his knowledge until he needed to retrieve it. Moody was attack first, ask questions later, whereas Dumbledore was a bit more strategic.

Kurama liked that.

"Ah, yes then. Just a normal, typical school really."

"And as for training?"

"Training?" Bakura echoed and then frowned, "I didn't receive training, I learned what I know on my own." a pause, "Well, for the most part."

"Elaborate." Moody seemed to think that he was going to be a bit more open than Kurama had been, but Kurama wasn't so sure. It didn't seem as though Bakura intended on going into detail on any of the questions, and he hid it all behind a smile. Fascinating.

"Surely you know that I am affiliated with the Ishtar clan? I suppose you could say that Malik Ishtar and I are… old acquaintances. As for what I know, I learned it on my own."

"And what is it that you know? What are your abilities?"

Bakura paused, studying him thoughtfully.

"I'm afraid that telling you that isn't a good idea for the time being… it's difficult to explain without someone else to help to explain it, and I doubt that I'd be able to explain sufficiently given my limited knowledge. I'm rather new to my abilities, myself. I doubt that I would be able to explain it in English. I apologize."

"Why would the Japanese government choose to recruit someone who didn't know their Craft?"

The boy laughed pleasantly, though there was some bitterness masked underneath it, "Oh, just because I can't explain it properly in this language doesn't mean that I don't have the skill. I've been… perfecting my Craft since I was twelve years old, more or less. Unknowingly at first, but yes. I know my abilities well."

One who wasn't as skilled as Kurama was at reading others wouldn't have seen it at all.

So he'd been right. Those stories in the newspaper had been, most likely, accidental magic of a sort.

"Mr. Bakura, if you can not explain your abilities, can you perhaps show them?" Dumbledore interrupted once more, perhaps trying to ease the tension somewhat.

"… that would not be wise."

"How are we supposed to trust you if you can not show us what your capabilities are? Any of you?" Moody glared at Bakura Ryou and Kurama in turn.

Bakura was still shaking, but he also showed no fear. His eyes were steely now, his gaze steady, "I was recruited by the Japanese Government so that I could help the magical world fight a threat that is a threat to us all. I do not intend to cause any of you harm. I am merely here to be of use. I do not have the same abilities as my comrades, I do not use the same magic. I am more connected to the Magick of Ancient Egypt than I am to Japan. I can not speak for them—" he gestured once again to Kurama, "But I can speak for myself and I am sure that my comrades feel the same way. I do not intend to cause any of you harm."

"Intention does not equal a promise."

"I try not to give promises that I can't keep."

"Very well then. I don't know what Dumbledore was thinking, but I've asked my questions and he's more than capable of making his own decisions." Moody stood up abruptly (he seemed to do most things abruptly), limping towards the door, "I shall take my leave, but everyone remember- CONSTANT VIGILANCE."

Surprisingly, no one jumped at the loudness of Moody's voice or the door slamming behind him—it must've been a usual occurrence.

So this was the Order of the Phoenix.

This certainly was an… interesting mission that Koenma had decided to push them into. Not that Kurama was complaining.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Hahaha wow, look at how late this repost is. I'm sorry, I've had a rough few weeks and haven't found the motivation to edit. Or to do anything, for that matter. I'm so behind in school... ack.**

**Anyway! I already started chapter 10 a few weeks ago, but then my computer malfunctioned and I lost the thousand words that I'd written. It was... disappointing. I may be able to recover it, so we shall see! I was considering whether or not to omit that scene anyway, so I'm taking this as a sort of sign. I'll try to publish chapter 10 either sometime next week or the week after- I'm going out-of-state for a few weeks to visit California! I used to live there, so. I'm not sure how busy I'll be.**

**Thank you for being so patient, and please review!**

**-starisfairy**


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